Athen snapped into consciousness. He was in a palace, looked like it, dark purple brick walls splattered with blood, looks like godly blood, black or fire, or whatever their the god or goddess of. There was fire blood, pink blood, all kinds of colors of blood. There was a throne of amethyst. Two small ones next to it, and a black figure, hand on the arm of the chair. Athen knew exactly it was and where he was. This is Muerta. And Muerta's palace. Athen gulped, and realized : he can't talk. A steel muzzle was around his mouth, and your wings are bind. The shackles on his arm and leg were tightened in a tortured way.
He looked up, and there she was: the magnificent Muerta, and she looks as evil as ever. Athen growled, and started muffling things.
Muerta got up. She was terrifyingly tall, and she slowly walked toward him.
"Fndmewfidntdaretausemewfai-" Athen stared, and Muerta put her hand on the muzzle.
"Shhhhhhhhhh . . ." She whispered.
Athen shut up, leaned back, and fiddled with the ropes that were bounding his wrists. He took a couple breaths. "Msss?" He tried to say.
"Shhhhh, Athen . . ." Muerta smiled. "I have a task for you, A."
"Mbut-"
"Sushhhh." Muerta said, and kneeled in front of Athen. "You are quite handsome, if I do say so myself." She pushed some of Athen's hair behind his ear.
"Mm!" He said, and growled at Muerta.
"Oo, sassy Athen." She giggled, "my favorite."
Athen swallowed. "Mutha." His foot twitched, and breathed a little heavy when Muerta put her hand on his shoulder.
"What are you scared about, Athen?" She smiled down at him. "I won't do anything."
YOU ARE READING
Assatel Rising
Teen FictionAthen Lynn Sterling, a fallen angel and an ex god, is sick of being told what to do, DONE with being killed. DONE will all the women he has killed. When Muerta comes, so does trouble. What happens to Athen? You won't know unless you read this!
